


Harry Potter and the Boy He Loved

by thehufflepuffheadgirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom Draco Malfoy, Bottom Harry, Gay, Gay Sex, Hogwarts, LGBTQ Character, M/M, Magic, Top Draco Malfoy, Top Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-09-27 21:48:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20414842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehufflepuffheadgirl/pseuds/thehufflepuffheadgirl
Summary: ONGOING"i want nothing to do with you.""are you sure about that?"





	1. Owl Post

Preface

The Battle of Hogwarts has been won, Voldemort defeated, and the school still in shambles. Though it's full of wizards, it will take months to rebuild. During this time, the trio remains at the Burrow. Hermione stresses over whether six years of magical education and a year of Horcrux hunting will land her with a good job. Ron, though also worried, finds her attitude ridiculous. Harry thinks she's right to be stressed.

HARRY AND GINNY HAVE NEVER BEEN ROMANTICALLY INVOLVED IN THIS AU

* * * * *

Chapter 1: Owl Post

"Well I wrote her two days ago and expect her response today," Hermione said in a huff, gathering her empty dishes from the kitchen table. Every other Weasley was at work; Ginny and Molly were tending to the garden.

"Not again," Ron groaned. "There's no way McGonagall's going to want to see our faces on Hogwarts grounds again after the mess we left it in."

"And we lured hundreds of Death Eaters to the school," Harry chimed in. Though he desperately wanted to return to Hogwarts, he thought it unlikely that they would be allowed back.

"Or," Hermione says, as she magically cleaned the dishes and put them away, "she'll be delighted to see the three people who took a major part in defeating Voldemort." She had a point.

Even if they were allowed back to the school, what would it be like? Harry had never attended a Hogwarts without Albus Dumbledore as Headmaster, save the professor's funeral date.

Harry cringed slightly. Every time he thought of Dumbledore, specifically his death, he thought of Snape, too. He still wasn't quite sure how he felt about his death, which he had witnessed only two months prior. Even though Snape had bullied Harry and his classmates all throughout his Hogwarts years and killed Dumbledore, he hadn't actually been a Death Eater like Harry had assumed. It was all part of a very well thought out ploy to kill Voldemort— but only mainly to avenge Harry's mother, Lily Potter, for whom Snape had had very strong feelings. Harry shook his head. It was all too much to think about.

Ron caught his eye. "Snape again?"

Harry nodded.

"Blimey Harry, you have to let that go. Remember when he showed up as Neville's boggart in third year? No kid should be that terrified of their potions professor."

"But Ron, he wasn't who we thought he was!" Hermione said. "He was on Harry's side the whole—"

"Yeah, only because he wanted to snog Harry's mum!"

The two carried on bickering as they had been day in and day out all summer. Harry figured they only stayed together because it exercised their minds. That and the fact that their sex seemed to sound great, even from where Harry had been sleeping. Not that Harry had been listening intentionally— most nights he cast a muffling charm on Ron's bedroom door. But if he forgot, he usually didn't get too much sleep.

Lost in his thoughts, Harry stared out the open window on the other side of the kitchen. Would Hogwarts be much different without Snape? Sure, he had been a pain in Harry's ass, but he couldn't discredit that he was a very talented wizard. He knew that McGonagall would replace Snape as Headmistress, but who would fill the Defense Against the Dark Arts position now that the Carrows were gone?

SQUAWK

Harry straightened up right away. He hadn't even seen the owl fly onto the sill of the open window. Just then, two more large, brown owls landed on either side of it. Each of them had a parchment envelope tied to its ankle. The three friends all cautiously looked from one to the other, as if they were all thinking of the same possibility.

Hermione scurried to inspect the envelopes.

"Ron, this one is addressed to you," she stated. "And this one is for you, Harry!"

The two boys shot out of their seats to untangle their letters. Once Harry had his open, he read to himself:

Dear Mr. Potter,

I am pleased to inform you that you have been invited to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for an additional year of schooling as your anticipated seventh year was not completed sufficiently.

In addition, you have been rewarded a full scholarship due to your outstanding performance in the Battle of Hogwarts, including robe and book fees. All other fees, such as additional supplies, must be approved by Headmistress McGonagall.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl (and list of requested classes) no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Filius Flitwick

Deputy Headmaster

Harry looked up at his friends with his jaw dropped. The two of them looked right back, Ron with an equal amount of shock and Hermione with a look of glee plastered across her face. Hermione squealed, embraced Harry, and then kissed Ron's cheek as she threw her arms around him. Harry fell back into his chair with a grin spreading across his face. He was going back to Hogwarts.


	2. To Hogwarts

Chapter 2: To Hogwarts

When the trio had informed Mr. and Mrs. Weasley about their return to Hogwarts, they were ecstatic.

"Oh, I had been so worried about what jobs you would be able to find without completing school," Molly said.

"Especially in this economy," added Arthur.

Ginny, too, was filled with glee to hear their news.

"Will you two be able to play Quidditch?" she asked Ron and Harry eagerly.

They pondered the thought.

"I doubt it," Harry said glumly. "Being 18 and all, I don't think McGonagall would find it fair."

"Oh," she remarked. "Right."

But the two boys could live without Quidditch. All they really wanted to do was fully complete school and get a stable job.

When the three friends and Ginny ventured through the brick wall between platforms nine and ten at King's Cross Station, they were surprised to find almost every student from Harry, Ron, and Hermione's year.

"Neville?" Hermione called as Ginny went to meet up with her friends.

The tall, dark-haired boy turned around. "Harry! Hermione! Ron!" he exclaimed, face lit up. He engulfed the three in a hug and said, "I didn't know you were coming back!"

"We hardly did either," Ron said with a grin. "I think Hermione finally convinced McGonagall to let us finish up school."

"Well, she wasn't the only one. I've been writing McGonagall all summer. Said I didn't think the education we had gotten last year was right, or fair. I mean, you saw who was teaching."

Harry hadn't even thought of that. Who else from their year would be returning?

Before he could continue the thought, the train whistle blew.

"I'll be seeing you lot later! Gotta find Luna," Neville said with a grin.

Hermione led them onto the train until they found the first empty compartment and then hauled their trunks onto the luggage shelf. While Hermione began gushing about her excitement (and anxiety), Harry stared out of the compartment, head swimming. Who else was returning? He watched the passersby carefully so as to count up familiar faces. Much to his surprise, Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini passed their compartment, fingers linked.

Huh, Harry thought. Wonder when that started.

He was so distracted thinking to himself that he almost missed when a tall, white-haired boy with a pointed chin passed their compartment.

"Was that Malfoy?" Harry said, almost shouting.

"What?" gasped Hermione.

"Where?" said Ron.

"Just now, he passed our compartment."

"Why do you reckon he's back?" asked Ron, craning his neck by the window to the hall to look.

"Maybe his parents came to their senses?" Hermione said hopefully. "I mean, Harry, you said that they weren't even fighting during the battle."

"Yeah, no, they weren't," Harry said thoughtfully. "But they also didn't have wands."

Hermione and Ron stared at him blankly.

"Do you remember when I saw into Voldemort's mind at the Burrow last year?" Harry asked to no response, but continued. "Lucius Malfoy had given his wand to Voldemort because Voldemort thought it would help him kill me. But when we were moving me to the Burrow and he tried to kill me, the wand cracked, which left Lucius with no wand. Then Malfoy's mum gave her wand to Malfoy after he lost his own during his fight with Dobby at Malfoy Manor, and that one ended up getting left in the fiendfyre, anway. So they couldn't really fight anyway. They were only there to find Malfoy."

"But I found Malfoy," Ron piped up. "Remember? After he lost his mum's wand he was totally helpless." 

"So maybe the Malfoys felt indebted to the Order?" Hermione wondered aloud. "That must be it. And they know how much the Order meant to all of the Hogwarts staff, especially Dumbledore. They couldn't remain loyal to the Death Eaters after the way they treated them compared to the way the Order repeatedly defended Malfoy."

Harry nodded. It all was making sense now.

Their door slid open and the three quickly looked up at the plump old woman at the door. "Anything from the trolley dears?"

* * * * *

The discussion for the remainder of the train ride was less intense, but the whole time, Harry kept thinking about Malfoy and his friends. What would they be like now that Voldemort was really, totally, completely dead? Various answers swam around in his head, but they came to halt along with the train.

Eagerly, the three gathered their luggage and walked to the carriages led by thestrals, which Ron and Hermione could now, unfortunately, see. The pair watched the creatures with a mixture of awe and disgust on their faces, which made Harry chuckle.

"What're you laughing at, Potter?" Behind them, a voice rang clear through the air. Harry's eyes settled on the source— Malfoy and his Slytherin posse— and rolled his eyes. So this is how he was going to be this year.

"Your fat head, Malfoy," Ron retorted.

"Could've sworn he was looking at you, Weaselbee," Malfoy said followed by a chorus of laughs. Ron started to stomp toward him, but Harry and Hermione caught him by the shoulders.

"Just be mature," Hermione said soothingly as she steered him toward a carriage. Ron muttered something under his breath but all Harry could pick up was "prat" and "blonde hair". But by the time the carriages started moving, the topic had already changed and the three were laughing again.

At what seemed like long last, they approached the school. Harry had almost forgotten what it looked like; the last time he saw it, half of the towers had been torn down by hexes. But whoever had restored the castle had returned it to its full former glory.

Once the carriage stopped, the three friends exited and were met by Hagrid at the entrance to the Great Hall.

"McGonagall said summat 'bout you three comin' back," he said softly (or, about as soft as Hagrid could speak) and bent down to give the three of them a big, wooly hug. The four talked excitedly for a moment before more returning students showed up. Hagrid explained to the growing crowd that they were to sit with their respective houses and McGonagall would explain the rest during the feast, and with that, the trio made their way to the Gryffindor house table. There were many cheers and whoops for them as they entered the hall and took their seats, to which they smiled and laughed. Even though it made Harry a bit uncomfortable, it felt like celebratory Quidditch cheers to him, so he accepted it.

They found themselves next to Dean and Seamus, who gave them more details about the kinds of things Snape had made them learn the year prior. Harry admittedly was interested, but they didn't know the truth about Snape (which still didn't quite dismiss the fact that he had been so awful to the students).

"Welcome, welcome," called McGonagall's voice through the hall, which quickly quieted. She was standing at the Headmistress's seat at the staff table. "I'm sure you're all eager to enjoy your feast, but first and foremost," she paused dramatically as she motioned at the ratty brown hat sitting on the stool in front of her, "the Sorting."

With that, the doors to the Great Hall opened and professor Flitwick was standing among a mass of first-year students. Harry couldn't help but grin at the sight of the first years towering over Flitwick's small build. Nonetheless, Flitwick led them to the front of the hall and allowed the hat to sing its commencement song, which Harry thought sounded quite similar every time he heard it.

As the ceremony continued, he applauded at the proper moments, but couldn't help his thoughts from drifting from Malfoy to Snape to Dumbledore. It was the same cycle his brain had been on since the battle had ended— and it was getting boring. Harry was beginning to think that his brain had been so occupied thinking about Voldemort for the past seven years that it didn't know when to slow down and stop thinking.

At last, the Sorting Ceremony ended and McGonagall flourished her wand to transfigure the stool into a podium, ornate and encrusted with jewels of purple and orange.

"Welcome first-years. I hope that you are able to find a home here at Hogwarts," McGonagall said at the podium, voice booming throughout the hall. "For those who are unaware," she paused and chuckled softly as if the statement was silly, "there was quite the disruption of education last year... What I am referring to is now coined the Battle of Hogwarts."

A ripple of murmurs passed through the hall and a couple of students even whooped. McGonagall suppressed a smile.

"Thankfully, the second wizarding war was won with the conclusion of said battle. However, it left many students feeling as though their education was completed insufficiently, and I received a number of owls this summer from students asking permission to return to complete their schooling for an additional year. That being said, there will be eighth-year students joining us for the year. They are to be treated as any other student. They will be taking classes with students in their year, sleeping in their usual dorms according to their house, sitting at their house tables, and will be punished and awarded the same as any other student. The only thing that eighth years are not permitted to do," she paused again as more murmurs scattered across the tables, "is play Quidditch."

This statement sent the hall into an uproar. Gryffindor's table seemed the most outraged while the Slytherin table seemed to be celebrating. Ron caught on to this and nudged Harry's arm with his elbow. "I guess Slytherin really hated losing to you, mate," he chuckled. This made Harry's face crack into a grin, despite his disappointment in the affirmation that he would not be able to play this year.

"Silence!" McGonagall called, and the Great Hall fell into a hush immediately. "I simply do not find the idea of 18- and 19-year-olds playing against students as young as 11 appropriate. Should anyone find a way they think may change my mind before Quidditch trials, I will gladly listen, but until somebody can manage that, my word is final." She uttered the last four words with an intense severity on her face and the hall remained soundless. Her eyes scanned the tables for any opposition and continued, "Eighth-years, though you may no longer be Prefects or Head Boys and Girls, I expect you to maintain your maturity and to set a good example for our younger students."

"Next, I want to introduce our new staff members," McGonagall continued. Harry scanned the staff table and his eyes rested on an empty chair that he had not noticed before. "Firstly, we have Professor Patil, who will be taking over as the Transfiguration professor." A tall Indian woman with a long, sleek braid laid over her shoulder stood and smiled.

"I think she's related to Padma and Parvati," Hermione said. "I overheard them talking to Luna about it."

McGonagall continued in the background with, "Professor Giroux—," a short, round man with a clean face and bushy eye stood, "— will teach Muggle Studies." The man waved and sat down again. "And most unfortunately, our last new staff member will not be able to join us for our feast tonight, as he is out on a mission for work. Nonetheless, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher will be Professor Kingsley Shacklebolt."

Harry turned to Ron and Hermione. "She must be joking," he said with a grin.

Ron and Hermione grinned back and him, but turned their attention back to the podium.

"With all of that being said, I hope each of you has a successful term. Enjoy the feast!" McGonagall clapped her hands twice and food appeared on the platters on the tables.

The Great Hall erupted into chatter as students excitedly began discussing their summers amongst one another. Harry, Ron, and Hermione began talking again with Dean and Seamus for the rest of dinner, and then, it was up to their dorms for the night. Harry had almost completely forgotten about what had been stressing him for the past few months. Almost.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Potions

While Harry had fallen asleep quickly (likely due to the amount of food he had eaten), he had been restless all night. His dreams had suddenly turned to flashbacks from the battle, unlike any he had had before. At the Burrow, he had actually started to sleep quite soundly with few disturbances as time went on. But he imagined that being back at Hogwarts was somewhat triggering. Regardless of the fact that he had won the battle, he had seen many— too many— deaths and had quite literally momentarily died himself.

He woke up exhausted from a night of terrifying dreams to find Ron looking just as tired, if not more.

The two of them found Hermione at breakfast already, finishing what looked to be a second cup of coffee.

"Bad night?" Ron asked her with a hint of humor.

"Couldn't fall asleep," she said. "And when I finally did... I just had nightmares about the battle."

"Same," Harry said. "Well, I fell asleep just fine— I mean, I did eat a ton— but my dreams were all about Voldemort."

Ron squirmed in his seat. "Me too."

Hermione rubbed her eye. "I think it's this place. I mean, I'm overjoyed to be back, but," she leaned in and lowered her voice, "I think it's affecting everyone else, too. It's just bringing back too many bad memories."

Harry looked around. She was right; almost everyone was yawning, even the teachers. He looked up at McGonagall's seat at the middle of the staff table. She wasn't there.

Just then, Hagrid approached the three friends with parchment rolls in his massive hands.

"Good mornin'," he said brightly despite the dark circles under his eyes. "I got yer schedules fer the week an' whatnot."

"Hagrid!" Hermione said in surprise. "You're head of Gryffindor?"

Hagrid chuckled and blushed. "Fer the time bein' at least. Reckon McGonagall wanted summun she knew she could trust while she gets to know the new professors."

"Well it's great you're doing it anyway," Harry said with a smile. Hagrid left them with the scrolls and they scanned their schedules.

"Double advanced potions? At nine o'clock? On a Monday?" Ron complained. "Just hit me with a bludger already."

"Get this— it's mixed houses, too, so Slytherin will be there. Just like the old days!" Harry said sarcastically.

Hermione attempted to put on a hopeful face, but just ended up looking pained as she said, "Maybe it won't be so bad?"

Harry glanced at the Slytherin table. Why was Malfoy still being so mean? The war was over and his family ended on an indifferent note. His parents didn't even end up in Azkaban! He shook his head.

"It'll be bad. I know it."

* * * * *

Harry, Ron, and Hermione found themselves marching into Slughorn's classroom dreading the next three hours. Slughorn, however, albeit tired, seemed ecstatic.

"Double advanced potions means even more advanced potions! Longer-brewing potions! Isn't that exciting?"

The class groaned in response; Slughorn seemed disappointed. That is, until, he scanned the classroom and his eyes landed on Harry.

"Harry, my boy!"

"Good morning, sir," Harry responded with much less enthusiasm.

"Good to see you!"

"You as well, sir."

Slughorn kept at it until he couldn't leak another word out of Harry. Instead of pestering him further, he smiled awkwardly and continued to the class, "Anywho, as today is such a sleepy morning, I thought it would be nice to start off with a review of a potion, something easy, and cheerful! Maybe in pairs?"

The class looked from one person to another. Harry gulped; he wouldn't get to choose a decent partner. Ron and Hermione would pair up, Dean and Seamus, Ernie and some other Hufflepuff, the four Ravenclaws would end up together, which left the three Slytherins: Pansy, Blaise, and Malfoy. He wished Neville had made it into advanced potions.

Slughorn explained that they would be making Elixir to Induce Euphoria and then exclaimed decidedly, "Pair up! We'll make it a little more fun!"

People began chattering as they formed pairs, and it happened exactly as Harry had expected, but he stood around waiting so as to minimize his time with the Slytherins. After a few moments, he looked over at where the Slytherins had set up. Pansy and Blaise naturally started working together, Pansy tracing her fingers along the back of Blaise's hand. Malfoy met his eye.

Harry put his head down and hoped that Slughorn wouldn't notice if he tried to work alone, but unfortunately, being the Boy Who Lived, he just stood out too much.

"Harry, my boy, no partner?"

"No, sir, but I thought I might ask if I could work alone?"

"Nonsense! Mr. Malfoy over here doesn't have a partner either, why not pair up?"

Harry nodded his head once, slowly, with his lips pressed together and made his way over to Malfoy's table.

"Morning," Harry said gruffly and flipped through his new— and unused— copy of Advanced Potion Making. He received a grunt in response.

The two started working in silence until Harry simply couldn't bear it any longer.

"Theodore Nott didn't come back?"

"What's it to you, Potter?" Malfoy spat in response. Harry heard Pansy clear her throat loudly and he looked up at her, but she was watching Malfoy. When Malfoy finally looked up at her, she raised her eyebrows.

"I mean—," Malfoy started again, "His father went to Azkaban. Mum died. I don't think I'd be coming back, either, if that had been me."

"Oh," Harry said. He didn't know whether he could press more, but he was curious. "I haven't seen Cr— I mean, Goyle, either." He almost had forgotten that Crabbe's own fiendfyre had killed him in the Room of Requirement only a few months ago.

Malfoy's throat made a noise. "Yeah... Goyle's parents are in Azkaban, too."

Harry thought Malfoy seemed actually upset about this. "Oh. I'm sorry."

Malfoy shook his head. "They were idiots. They wouldn't have lasted another year at school. Besides, I don't think Goyle could've made it to platform 9 and 3/4 without his parents anyway."

Harry chuckled lightly, but Malfoy looked at him sharply. "What's so funny?"

"I-I'm sorry, I thought you were making a joke," Harry said. Pansy coughed.

"Oh, I— yeah, I was, actually. Sorry," Malfoy muttered. It sounded like he swore under his breath, but it was so quiet that Harry couldn't have been sure.

Harry shook his head. "It's fine. Hey, pass me that peppermint stalk. Slughorn liked when I added that last year."

Malfoy handed the peppermint to him and stared as Harry chopped up a few leaves into fine pieces. "Weren't you in that Slug club a couple years ago?" Malfoy asked. His tone was condescending.

"Yeah," Harry said. Trying to make the best of his situation, he laughed then continued, "It wasn't all bad. Right, Blaise?" He looked up at Blaise, who studied him.

"No, not too bad," he said after a moment. "I just hardly knew anyone. You actually had friends with you, Harry."

"Yeah, I guess that's what made it bearable," he chuckled and put the mint aside.

"Like who?" Malfoy said. Harry could tell he tried to make it casual, but he kind of blurted it out.

"Uh," Harry stuttered for a second, startled. "Well, I had Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley... that's about it."

"You weren't friends with that McLaggen kid?" Malfoy pressed.

"Who? Cormac?" Harry laughed again. "God, no. He's a prat. Do any of you remember the Quidditch game when he was filling in as Keeper for Ron?" Harry threw his thumb behind his shoulder, indicating his friend across the classroom. "Left the goal posts I don't even know how many times during that game to show other people how to play their positions."

The three Slytherins laughed and Harry thought he saw a glint of relief in Malfoy's light eyes.

"I remember that weird Ravenclaw girl was announcing that one," Pansy added.

"Luna?" Harry said with a tone of surprise, dropping the knife he had been using onto the table. They all looked up at him. "She's my friend."

"Oh— That's not what I— Sorry," she said, looking away. Harry didn't say anything while he continued to study the directions for the potion.

"I'm gonna go get some fairy wings from the potions storage," Harry said to Malfoy, his tone not giving away anything, and left the table. Harry could hear the three Slytherins whispering furiously as he walked away. What were they talking about? Surely about the conversation they just had, but what about it? Harry reached for one of the jars labeled Fairy Wings and returned to the table, which was silent. They worked that way, in silence, until Blaise spoke up.

"How do you feel about not playing Quidditch this year, Harry?"

Harry's eyes flicked up to Blaise and then down again to his fairy wings, which he was now grinding. "It's alright, I guess. I'm gonna miss it, but I was on that team for six years, so I had a good run," Harry paused. "What about you, Draco? Do you wish you could play this year?"

Malfoy looked up, surprised at the mention of his first name. "Yeah, I mean," he paused, "I guess I wasn't as into it as you. I barely played sixth year."

Harry knew what he was referring to. Voldemort had wanted Malfoy to kill Dumbledore that year, but instead of saying anything, Harry just shrugged. "So you won't miss it?"

Malfoy pressed his lips together. "Probably not."

The rest of potions continued this way, with Harry laughing amongst the Slytherins he had always hated. It felt strange, but not entirely wrong. At the end of class, Slughorn made his rounds to inspect their impressions of Elixir to Induce Euphoria. He looked excited to visit Harry's table, but was slightly disappointed at the greenish hue of their potion.

"It does, however, smell like peppermint again, Harry. Very nice touch," he said with a smile and clapped Harry on the shoulder. Harry and Malfoy looked at each other and stifled laughs.

On the way out of the classroom, Pansy, Blaise, and Malfoy all said goodbye to Harry as they passed by him. He was waiting by the door for Ron and Hermione.

"What, now you're cracking jokes with Malfoy?" Ron asked incredulously before Harry could even say 'hello'.

"He's not that bad anymore," Harry shrugged.

"I dunno, Harry," Hermione said. "Don't you think he could have ulterior motives?"

He shrugged again. "I doubt it, honestly. I mean, the war's over and besides, he seems like he's finally over his blood supremacy thing."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "Do you not remember what he said to me in second year? He called me a mudblood and threatened my life!"

"Well, yeah I do, Hermione, but—"

"Blimey, mate, you can't really be making excuses for him. I mean, how do you know he's over that? How do you know he isn't trying to turn you against us?" Ron said.

"Ron, I highly doubt—"

"But how do you know, Harry?" Hermione interrupted, stopping in the middle of the corridor, arms crossed.

"Alright, fine, I'll be careful," he reasoned, not wanting to cause any more trouble. "I doubt I'll ever talk to him again, honestly. How often does Slughorn let us do group work?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and continued walking. "Just don't let him talk you into anything stupid, that's all."


	4. Night Walk

For the rest of the day, Harry did not have any more classes with the three Slytherins. This, however, did not stop him from wondering about them. What did they want? They couldn't possibly still be on about their pure-blood status, could they? Why did that even matter to them in the first place, let alone now, when the most infamous blood supremacist was now dead? Harry doubted that that was driving them to talk to him, but Hermione, throughout the day, had actually convinced him to be wary of them.

So, when Pansy and Blaise (hand in hand, of course) had stopped Harry in the corridor to tell him about something dumb McLaggen had done, he laughed half-heartedly and continued walking with Ron and Hermione. Did they actually just want to joke around with him? He couldn't be sure.

At dinner, Seamus and Dean made fun of Harry for having to sit with the Slytherins during potions. Upon hearing this, Ginny whipped her red hair around to face them.

"You were working with Malfoy?" she asked angrily. "Remember what his father did to me my first year? Slipping Voldemort's diary into my cauldron in Diagon Alley?"

"Yes, I remember," Harry said sharply. His friends were making Malfoy look worse and worse. "Look, I already got told off by Hermione and Ron, I don't need to hear it all again. I get it." With that, he stood from the table and stormed off to Gryffindor tower where he began his charms homework in his bed.

At some point, he must have drifted off due to his fatigue from the previous night's nightmares because he woke up with a start to a very, very dark room. Images from his dream came flooding back to him. No wonder he had woken up; each picture in his head was of Voldemort.

Harry sat up, felt around for his wand and said, "Lumos." He could see that all the other boys were in bed and sound asleep. He sighed, pushed himself out of bed, and changed out of his robes and into pajamas. Before sitting back in his bed, though, he grabbed the Marauder's map.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he recited as he sat down again. He unfolded the map and curiously watched all of the dots sitting still on the page. All except Filch, Mrs. Norris, and the ghosts, of course. His eyes scanned the parchment. And... Malfoy. His dot was moving slowly through the corridors. Harry watched intently as the dot began to move up the stairs to the astronomy tower. That was where he tried to kill Dumbledore.

Harry pressed his lips together in frustration. Hermione was right; Malfoy was up to something.

Harry stood up, collected his invisibility cloak, and rushed out of the dorm. He had to know what Malfoy was up to.

He was running under the cloak, careful to avoid Filch and Mrs. Norris. By the time he reached the steps to the astronomy tower, he was sweating. He double-checked his map. Malfoy was still at the top of the tower. Harry exhaled and carefully began his ascent so as not to make any noise.

Once at the top, he saw Malfoy sitting, back towards Harry, next to the opening where Dumbledore's body had fallen out of the tower. As he silently approached, he heard weeping. He stopped abruptly, which caused the sole of his shoe to squeak against the floor.

"Who's there?" Malfoy said as he shot up, wand drawn. His black traveling robe rippled in the wind. "I know you're here."

Harry didn't know what to do. If he didn't show himself, Malfoy would surely leave. But if he did, then what would happen? His mind raced for a second as Malfoy demanded, "Show yourself!"

Ever so slowly, Harry pulled the cloak off and stared at the blonde boy in front of him, whose swollen eyes widened.

"Potter! I-I mean," Malfoy sighed, lowering his wand. "Harry." He paused. "Is that— is that an invisibility cloak?"

Harry nodded.

Malfoy eyed the cloak and then Harry's face. "What are you doing up here?"

Harry almost laughed. "I might ask you the same thing."

Malfoy turned around and sat down again, pulling his robes tight around his shoulders. "I came here a lot last year," he muttered. "I had a lot on my mind and... I dunno, it's a nice place to think, I guess."

Harry nodded, though he knew Malfoy couldn't see him. He paced toward the boy on the floor and sat next to him. Malfoy shook his head.

"Anyway, why are you up here?"

"I, uh," Harry started. He didn't know if he could tell Malfoy about the nightmares or not, but decided that it would be safer to say than 'my friends convinced me that you're evil so I had to come see what you were up to'. "I've been having bad dreams since coming back to school. I think being here just reminds me of the battle too much."

Malfoy nodded. "That's why I'm up so late. And then I couldn't get back to sleep, so... here I am."

"Here we are."

There was a silence.

"What are your nightmares about?" Harry asked, then quickly added, "If you don't mind me asking."

Malfoy shook his head again. "It's fine." He paused and took a breath. "I've been having this one for the past year or so, where I watch myself kill Dumbledore instead of Snape. I'm sure you know I was supposed to do it myself."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I know."

Malfoy looked at Harry and then back to the moonlit view. "It went away for a while. The dream, I mean. But I had it the first night back and then again tonight."

"That's the same with me... I keep having one where Voldemort comes back. He always finds me when I'm sleeping and... kills me." Harry's voice faded and he said the last two words.

"Dear God, Harry," Malfoy says with a nervous chuckle. "That's terrifying."

Harry shrugs. "It kind of went away for a few weeks but when I got back here..."

Silence.

Harry cleared his throat. "Did you know your mum lied to Voldemort for me?"

A pause. "How do you mean?"

"Well, erm... During the battle, when I had to go to the Forbidden Forest and he tried to kill me. He only killed the Horcrux that he had accidentally placed in me that night he killed my parents, so I didn't die." He looked at Malfoy, who was studying Harry's face as he spoke. Harry turned again, deciding to omit the part when he met Dumbledore again in a very clean King's Cross Station, and continued, "He wasn't sure if he had actually killed me or if he had failed again, so he sent your mum to check. She came to my side and saw I was alive and asked me if you were, too." He felt Malfoy look away. "When I told her you were, she stood up and told Voldemort that I was dead." Now he glanced at Malfoy. It was dark, but he could see a tear fall down his cheek. Harry looked away again.

After a few moments of more silence, Malfoy finally said, "She put herself at risk like that for me? Lying to him?"

Harry didn't know how to answer, so all he said was, "Yeah."

Malfoy looked at Harry again and Harry looked back into those light silvery eyes which looked even brighter due to the contrast from the redness. He studied the boy's light-colored eyelashes, his dark and deep under-eye circles which one only achieves from continual sleepless nights, his long, thin nose, the shallow dip between his septum and mouth, his thin, but ever so soft looking pale lips.

Harry looked away again. "We should probably get to bed."

He felt Draco's gaze stray again. "Yeah, you're right."

The pair stood, descended the staircase, and prepared to enter the corridor.

"Hang on!" Harry said suddenly. He pulled the Marauder's map out of his pocket, which still showed everyone's locations. His eyes ran over the halls closest to them. Filch was standing in a corridor nearby next to Mrs. Norris. Just standing.

"Damn," Harry said.

"What is that," Draco said, eyes wide and glued to the map.

"It was my dad's. Shows everyone's location in the school," Harry said, trying to keep its secrets minimal.

"Wicked," Draco said, breathing out.

"Yeah, but what isn't is the fact that Filch is one corridor over, just talking to his cat, by the looks of it," Harry muttered. He looked up at the taller boy. "I don't want you getting caught any more than I." It felt weird to say something like that to the boy he had hated since they met. Usually, he relished seeing Draco get in trouble.

"Okay, so then what do we do?"

Harry thought for a few seconds and he monitored Filch.

"Here," Harry finally said after a moment, waving out the invisibility cloak. "Get under here and we'll walk back to the Slytherin dorm."

Draco looked at Harry and raised an eyebrow.

"And then I'll head back to Gryffindor Tower," Harry corrected himself. Draco looked at Harry, then to the cloak, and back to Harry. He raised his eyebrow again. "Look, do you want to get caught?" Harry demanded. Draco rolled his eyes and stepped under the cloak. Harry stepped in front of him rather than to the side to save space. Draco grumbled something under his breath but the two took off down the corridor.

Harry kept a close eye on the map, but Filch still hadn't left his spot with Mrs. Norris. He wondered what they could possibly be doing, but decided he'd rather not know.

They continued further down to the dungeons with Draco muttering things like "turn right," "past the statue," "through that doorway" into Harry's ear. This whispering tickled Harry's ear and neck in a way that simultaneously irritated him and made him feel giddy. Harry was glad that Draco was behind him and not in front. He tried to distract himself from his unfortunate frontal situation by trying to recount the route from when he and Ron snuck into the Slytherin dorm disguised as Crabbe and Goyle in their second year. He wondered if Draco had figured out that was him, but thought that now was not the time to bring it up.

At last, they arrived at the entrance to the Slytherin common room and Harry checked the map to find that nobody was in the surrounding corridors. He lifted the cloak off of himself and turned to Draco, who was quickly brushing his white hair with his fingers to make it lay flat again. Harry smirked at him as he ruffled his own black hair, which made it lay-- or stick out-- perfectly.

"Prat," Draco muttered.

"Watch it, Malfoy," Harry said, pointing a finger at him, but cracking a smile.

Draco rolled his eyes and Harry stuffed the map in his pocket and waved the cloak again. Before walking away he said, "Goodnight, Draco."

He could see Draco's pale cheeks turn pink before he turned toward the Slytherin door and murmured, "Goodnight, Harry."


End file.
